


The One Where Harry Bakes Hermione A Cake

by GammilyIsMe



Series: Illusions 'Verse [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baking, Birthday Cake, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, I was basically craving cake, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and then wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-17 23:27:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15472470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GammilyIsMe/pseuds/GammilyIsMe
Summary: For Hermione’s Sweet Sixteen, Harry decides to bake her one of his famous chocolate cakes. Hermione, being the birthday girl, is not allowed to help. Hilarity ensues.





	The One Where Harry Bakes Hermione A Cake

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a three shot in its own verse, which I am calling the ‘Cake ‘Verse.’ It can be read on its own or as a companion piece to my multichapter fic, Fading Illusions. Check it out on my profile! 
> 
> Summary: For Hermione’s Sweet Sixteen, Harry decides to bake her one of his famous chocolate cakes. Hermione, being the birthday girl, is not allowed to help. Hilarity ensues.

 

 

 

**HERMIONE’S 16TH BIRTHDAY (SEPTEMBER 19TH, 1997)**

  


* * *

 

 

It was a calm weekend afternoon at the Granger household. Dr. Dan Granger was in his office upstairs, looking over something or other for his dental practice.

Dr. Emma Granger was out last minute shopping for birthday candles. It was, after all, a very special day.

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger sat at the large wooden table located in the middle of the Granger’s kitchen. It was nicely decorated, a nod towards Emma’s tendency to read the ‘Housekeeping’ magazine when bored at work. The cabinets and walls were painted a bright white, with light blue accents on the plates and in the backsplash.

The two teenagers were quiet, staring in awe at the creation in front of them. Hermione rested her chin in her hands as she gazed adoringly at what was placed on the table. Harry had a different expression on his face, wearing a smile that could be interpreted as either smug or proud.

The chocolate cake had been out of the oven for over ten minutes, but the layers were still cooling. The pans were a rich dark brown, hinting at the chocolate goodness within.

Hermione slowly drifted towards it, smelling the rich, heavenly chocolate aroma. Her entire body leaned forward until she was resting her stomach on the table. To Harry, Hermione’s actions reminded him of the characters in the cartoons that Dudley used to watch when they lifted off their feet and led their noses to the smell of delicious food. Mouth watering as she stared at the two scrumptious sheets of cake, she stared unblinkingly. Unwittingly and seemingly without her permission, one of Hermione's hands moved closer to the cake. Harry’s hand was as fast as a whip as it smacked her own away.

She cradled her hand to her chest as if Harry had mortally wounded her. “Ow! It’s my birthday, you doofus! Let me eat some of it!” She stuck a tongue out at Harry as if it was his fault that the cake was taking too long to cool down.

Harry rolled his eyes in response to Hermione’s childish antics. “It’s not ready. Too hot, you’d burn your tongue and start complaining and then where would we be?” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for the usually logical Hermione to come up with an excuse to get around Harry and to the cake.

“Eating cake, obviously,” Hermione retorted. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the chocolate-brown cakes. They smelled _so good_. The air was so saturated with the scent of chocolate that Hermione felt she was bathing in it.

Harry was unimpressed by her impatience and her mediocre excuse, as he moved the cooling racks out of her line of sight and onto the countertop by the sink. Hermione actually _whimpered_ when she couldn’t see the delectable cakes anymore, hidden as they were behind Harry’s back.

Harry spoke up, focused on the cakes in front of him. He poked them to gauge their temperatures as he replied, “We would have burned tongues and not be able to taste it. You’re supposed to be the smart one here, Hermione! Besides, it still isn’t done.” He turned around to face her. His smile was definitely smug at this point. He loved teasing Hermione, and she loved to play along.

Hermione was very good at playing along, especially when Harry’s baking was involved. This time, she was shameless and on a mission. She pouted and opened her eyes wide and pleading at Harry. “Please?” Harry’s smile faltered as he took in her face, before becoming resolute once more.

“No.” Harry gave her a smirk, laughter shining in his eyes as he took the cake off of the mesh cooling rack and carefully cut the two cake layers in half. Now having four perfectly round circles of cake, he started to prep the icing.

The sweet scent of sugar, butter, and chocolate filled the air as Harry went about making the chocolate fudge buttercream icing. As he whisked, Harry felt eyes on him from across the table. Hermione was practically drooling at the sight of the rich brown icing that was forming under Harry’s attentive stirring. He hummed whimsically as he glanced at Hermione. All logic flew out the window when it came to Hermione and sweets, which was surprising given her family’s profession. Usually, _no one_ got between Hermione and her sweets; _specially_ on her birthday. But Harry knew if he let the anticipation build, the final product would taste that much sweeter. Hermione currently had cake tunnel vision, and all her thoughts were on eating Harry’s creation as soon as possible. This was no time to be patient! She caught his eyes and then looked away, pouting like she did when she was especially petty.

Hermione could feel Harry’s gaze on her as he whisked all of the ingredients together until the frosting was a dark, creamy mixture and ready to be spread on the finally cooled cakes. He spread the icing on the first layer of the now cooled cake, then the second, the third, then finally, the fourth. Suddenly, all Harry had to do to complete the cake was finish frosting the outside and then cover it with shaved chocolate.

Except, he couldn’t find the chocolate. The cake wasn’t complete without the chocolate shavings.

“‘Mi, where did the chocolate bar go?” He looked expectantly at his best friend, who always knew the answer. This answer, specifically, Hermione knew. Because she stole it.

“What chocolate bar?” she asked innocently as if she wasn’t the one to take it.

“The chocolate bar for the cake?” Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest  
  
“I don’t know anything about that.”

“No chocolate bar? Then I guess we’ll have to wait until it shows up again.” Harry leaned back against the counter and crossed his legs at the ankle, looking casual and not at all expectant as if he was expecting the chocolate bar to simply walk back onto the counter.

Hermione tapped her finger on the table, the noise filling the room as the two stared expectantly at each other. She couldn’t wait any longer. Chocolate cake would always be her Kryptonite, her fatal flaw, her weakness.

Hermione let out a groan, “Fine. It’s in the top right cabinet, next to the honey.”

“Thanks!” Harry said brightly, happy that he finally got his way. As he slowly shaved the chocolate into a pile to stick onto the sides of the cake, Hermione bit her lip. She stood up and walked closer to view the masterpiece that was being created right in front of her.

“Now?” Her breath smelled like chocolate. Harry now had confirmation that the bite in the chocolate bar came from her and he let out a soft snort of disbelief that was full of affection.

Harry didn't stop moving his hands as he spoke. “No, we have to wait for your mom. She’s getting the birthday candles, remember?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe that we didn't have birthday candles. We normally reuse them after they’re blown out.”

Hermione leaned in closer again, trying to reach the heavenly smell. Harry tsked before pushing her back by the shoulder.

“Crookshanks ate them, remember? Stupid cat,” Harry laughed, remembering when they found him next to the empty box of candles. He was caught in the act, with two half eaten candles in front of him and small bits of rainbow wax coating the fur around his mouth.

“He is not!” Hermione shouted indignantly. By now Harry was more than halfway done with the chocolate shavings. He slowly turned the cake, working on the next section.

“Then you _didn't_ have to take him to the vet to get them removed?” Harry started smirking, knowing Hermione wouldn’t have a comeback. Hermione had been frantic that her ‘perfect angel’ of a cat would do something like that, but the vet had assured them that the wax wasn’t toxic but they had to induce vomiting so they wouldn’t mess up his insides.

Hermione huffed before pouting again. When she spoke up again her voice was small. “No, we did.” Hermione bumped shoulders with Harry, “I’m sure he had a perfectly reasonable explanation for eating them, though!”

“He’s an orange idiot,” supplied Harry. Hermione’s face grew fond as she thought of her ugly orange cat. No matter how much Harry tried to convince her otherwise, she would always love his ‘cute scrunched up face.’ Harry held firm to the belief that Crookshanks was a hairy, orange, overgrown potato. But a _loveable_ hairy, orange, overgrown potato. That was the key difference between the two teens.

Harry took a step back from the finished cake, now decorated with forked swirls on the top and a healthy amount of chocolate covering the sides. Hermione couldn’t tear her eyes away from the masterpiece before her. Her knees almost buckled at the sight of the cake. Worried that Hermione was about to keel over, Harry led her over to the closest chair and helped her take a seat. Once Harry took a seat they both stared at the cake in admiration.

“Now can we eat it?” Hermione asked cheekily. While she might have said it jokingly, Hermione hoped that Harry would just say ‘screw it!’ and let her just smash her face into the chocolatey goodness.

Harry shook his head.

So the two sat in silence once more.

 

* * *

 

Harry’s shoes tapped on the floor as he shook his leg up and down in anticipation. Hermione resumed her tapping on the table.

 

* * *

 

Five minutes later, Harry gave in. They each had a single slice of the quadruple layer chocolate cake.

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, the cake was gone. It had been demolished, devoured, and utterly obliterated. Harry and Hermione collapsed onto the large comfy couch in the living room, clutching their stomachs and wiping their mouths of chocolate.

 

* * *

 

Harry groaned. “That was the worst idea ever.” He dramatically threw an arm up to cover his eyes, as if he didn't want to face the reality of eating all of that cake.

“Never. That was brilliant. All of my ideas are brilliant. Same as this one.” Hermione sounded confident in her response. Then, she groaned and rolled over onto the couch. She stabbed an elbow into the meat of Harry’s shoulder which made him lazily swat her away.

Harry picked up his hand and brought it close to his face. “See! I can’t even move properly right now.” He flopped his limp hand around a few times before resting his hand on Hermione’s head.

The two laid in comfortable silence on the couch until Dan finally came down the stairs. He looked confusedly at them. They were laying on the couch like two sacks of potatoes, and were the human embodiment of the phrase ‘couch potato.’

“So I follow the heavenly smell of chocolate cake down here and I don’t see it. Is it not done?” he said, scanning the room for any traces of cake.

“No,” Harry responded. He was having trouble keeping a straight face. Hermione wasn’t faring any better, going by the red tint her face was taking by holding in laughter.

Dan looked at Harry who still hadn’t moved. “Oh, okay. Let me know when it is done! Can’t wait to have some!” Dan started to walk to the kitchen, where the cake smell was strongest, hoping that he could take a peek in the oven at his daughter’s special sweet sixteen cake.

“No, I mean no. It _is_ done.” Harry clarified. Dan turned around and by the look on his face, it didn’t seem like he followed. His expression gained a degree of impatience. _Like father, like daughter,_ thought an amused Harry. Dan’s face looked almost exactly like Hermione’s had when Harry denied her cake.

“Then where is it?” Dan asked eagerly, but his voice was tinged with suspicion. The two could be menaces when they wanted to be. Hermione let out a very unladylike burp that smelled like chocolate and regret. Harry giggled at the sound. Then he let out a roaring burp of his own, causing Hermione to snicker as well.

“Hopefully it won’t end up on the carpet?” Hermione supplied helpfully,

“If you punched me in the stomach right now I would throw up.” Harry couldn’t keep in his laughter in by this point and Hermione soon joined in. Dan, however, wore a dawning look of comprehension. He squinted his eyes as he saw all of the clues. The uncharacteristic laziness, the smudges of chocolate on the sides of their mouth, the smell of cake but the oven light being off. It was all clear to him now.

Dan paused. “You mean you two ate the cake?”

“All of it.” Hermione sagely said as she nodded. She patted her full stomach in front of her. Harry would have copied her, but he was laying on his stomach. Instead, he hummed in agreement with a content smile on his face.

“I don’t know if I should be worried or impressed,” Dan said. He scratched the back of his neck as he sighed. He’d been looking forward to that chocolate cake, too. The last time that Harry had baked that cake had been for his own birthday a few months before. It was the best cake he had ever had, and Harry had baked them a lot of cakes throughout the years.

“Yeah, me neither,” Harry groaned out. He sat up from where he was laying on the armrest, pressing his elbows down on the arm of the couch to prop himself into a more upright position. Hermione let out a small noise of complaint as her couch-partner moved.

“It was so good, though,” said Hermione, lying prone on Harry’s back. Her head was resting on Harry’s shoulder as she tilted it backward. Dan just watched them with detached amusement as Hermione rolled over to get into a more comfortable spot.

Harry flushed slightly at the compliment, unused to such praise, even from his best friend. “Thanks, ‘Mione,” said Harry.

“You should bake more often,” Hermione suggested. The cake hadn’t even been digested and yet there she was, already wanting more. “You should make a red velvet cake next. Wait, an angel food cake. No! Forget everything I said. Make a chocolate molten lava cake.”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugged, a smirk on his face.

Dan chimed in, “I agree with my daughter. I want to have a slice of the next cake you make!”

From the living room, the three heard the scratching of keys in the lock and the front door opening. The rustling of plastic bags moving reverberated around the house as Emma walked in.

Emma shouted at them from the kitchen. “I have the candles! Is the cake ready yet?”

The three exchanged glances and started laughing.

Emma walked into the living room carrying a plastic shopping bag, confused at their response. She looked back and forth between her husband and the two teenagers lazing on the couch.

“What?”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So judging by my failing attempts to write chocolate semi-erotically (or even write food in a coherent way), I will probably never try to write smut. 
> 
> Fun story! When I was first writing this, I had it open on a tab on my work computer. I don’t normally keep the internet open on my computer and keep the two general control apps open instead. 
> 
> So! One day me and my research advisor were in the lab and I said I’d go leave to grab something and as I was leaving, he said “Oh, Emily. I saw the Harry Potter fanfic you had open on the computer. It was very good, I liked it.” And me, being me, did not know how to respond. So I said thanks and then ran away.
> 
> Later that day, I brought up a random musical and the following conversation happened.  
> Prof: Have you seen Puffs the Musical?  
> Me: No, but I want to.  
> Prof: What about Cursed Child?  
> Me: No, and I don’t plan on it. I’m one of those people who likes to pretend that it doesn’t exist.  
> Prof: Yeah, it’s like badly written fanfiction.  
> Me: Yes! Except that Rowling herself wrote it so it is technically canon!  
> Then we both nodded sadly. The next day he asks if I have ever gone to comic con and I say no, then he tells me that he goes every year. Then we talk about Fantastic Beasts as well as the new Doctor Who trailer.
> 
> It was a wild experience for me. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think and what you would like to see more of!


End file.
